


i drink too much coffee and think of you often (you remind me that it's such a wonderful thing to love)

by tokiwas



Category: TsukiPro the Animation
Genre: Alternate Universe - Orchestra, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:48:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23248006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tokiwas/pseuds/tokiwas
Summary: classical music/orchestra au. shiki is a composer who's hell-bent on capturing a memory in a song - a memory which just so happens to involve rikka.
Relationships: Horimiya Eichi & Izumi Shuu & Kuga Ichiru & Kuga Issei, Sera Rikka/Takamura Shiki
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	i drink too much coffee and think of you often (you remind me that it's such a wonderful thing to love)

**Author's Note:**

> AT LONG LAST... i've finished this fic....
> 
> sq orchestra/classical music au. more stuff about this au in the end notes.
> 
> a huge thank you to yukki for helping me flesh out this universe and the characters!!
> 
> title taken from "patricia" by florence + the machine

The memory begins like this-

He’s nineteen years old, and he’s in London watching adults socialise, after a brilliant performance by a world-renowned orchestra.

Takamura Shiki is a child prodigy. When he was still in middle school, he was chosen as the lead violinist in the National Youth Orchestra, and his name spread waves across the classical music scene. But upon entering university, Shiki had decided to take a different path than just performing.

“I want to be a composer,” he had said, during his interview. The interviewers all sported surprised expressions. “I want to conduct my own music in an orchestra. That’s what I want to do.”

Despite their surprise, the university seemed to have trust in his ambitions, and so he was accepted. In particular, one of the lecturers, Tsukino Mikoto, seemed to have taken a liking for him, and had taken him under his wing. Being the pupil of Tsukino Mikoto opened a lot of doors for Shiki – including this trip, as the composer of the piece had personally extended an invite to him.

Of course, Shiki was asked to come along.

As Shiki stands awkwardly in a corner, a server brings out a tray filled with glasses of wine.

“Red or white?” she asks, politely.

Shiki simply says “red”, and keeps quiet about the fact that the age limit to drink in Japan is twenty. He’s even heard that in some parts of Europe, the drinking age is sixteen.

The red wine turns out to be more delicious than he thought.

“Does it taste nice?” A voice speaks to him in Japanese. Shiki turns to see a young man with a beautiful face, smiling at him.

Sera Rikka. Shiki knows his face very well. A flutist and another talented youth, just one year younger than Shiki, however he’s more well-known for putting on solo recitals. Shiki had done a few solo recitals here and there, and had met Rikka during many of those occasions. 

“It’s nice to meet you again, Shiki,” Rikka says. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“My mentor was invited,” Shiki responds. “What about you?”

“I’m actually in London for a recital,” Rikka laughs. “But my mentor is a huge fan of the composer. He had to go to watch.”

Their conversation is cut short, as Tsukino Mikoto invites Shiki to have a conversation with the composer. Surprisingly, Rikka’s mentor is chatting animatedly with them, and invites Rikka into the conversation as well.

The talk is fruitful, and the composer even praises Shiki, when he points out a few comments about the piece. But somewhere along the line, other people start to come in, and Shiki and Rikka slip away to allow the more established musicians to engage in conversation.

“Is this your first time in London?” Rikka asks. Shiki shakes his head.

“I’m sure it’s not your first time in London either,” he replies.

Rikka laughs, and nods at the remark. They finish their wine, and pass the glasses to the grateful server with a “thank you.”

“I’m just thinking,” Rikka starts. “Since we know our way around London somewhat. Do you want to slip away?”

“Away?”

“Yes.” The smile on Rikka’s face is mischievous. Perhaps it’s the wine that’s making him impulsive. Shiki doesn’t remember Rikka to be this daring. “I mean, we’ve had our fair share of conversation here. You were here on the first two days, weren’t you?”

Shiki shrugs, and nods.

”Then let’s be unreasonable,” Rikka says, stretching his arm out. “Let’s go and do something impulsive, just for one night.”

He seems almost like a prince, when he does that. Shiki knows that Rikka’s looks are just as famous as his flute. But more importantly, there’s something inside Shiki that stirs – a need for some sort of adventure, a break away from the endless monotone of the industry. Perhaps the alcohol is affecting him too.

And so Shiki places his hand inside Rikka’s, accepting the invitation of the prince, and with quick farewells to their mentors, they slip away.

**

The memory begins like this.

_Oxford Street is wide, the buildings large, and despite the many people walking along, the vastness of it all makes the place seem almost empty. Footsteps clatter across the sidewalk, the screens shine with high-end advertisements, and the night sky is filled with stars._

_It is beautiful. But more importantly, it feels free._

_Here, he can walk along the crowd unnoticed. Here, he can jump and run, and laugh. In this moment, he’s not a prodigy. He’s not even a musician. He’s just – Takamura Shiki._

_This is the youth of what high school mangas sing about, he thinks. The youth he never got to experience._

_“If only this moment could last forever.”_

_The words echo next to him, a wish that he knows will never come true._

_Takamura Shiki turns, and faces-_

**

“Shiki, can I enter?”

Shiki takes a pause from writing to the sound of Rikka’s voice.

“Sure. What’s up?”

Rikka enters the room, stepping around the mess on Shiki’s floor. Every time Shiki gets into a composing mood, he tends to ignore everything else – including the state of his room.

“I’ve made tea,” Rikka says, seemingly pretending not to notice the mess. “Do you want to come to the living room to have some?”

Shiki looks at his music sheets, dissatisfied. He hasn’t quite managed to capture the essence of what he wants in this song yet. But tea does sound good at the moment, so he puts down his pen and follows Rikka to the living room.

It’s been many years since that memory. Shiki and Rikka are much older now, and in a strange turn of events, Rikka is now the main flutist in the orchestra that Shiki is conducting. Shiki’s become a national sensation, with his first piece critically acclaimed in the world of modern classical music, and his orchestra well-known in the music scene.

Since they were both working together, Shiki and Rikka decided to pool money to share an apartment three years back. Currently, they share a three bedroom apartment with another member of Shiki’s orchestra. It’s weird to stay with a colleague, but since Shiki barely leaves the room, it doesn’t matter much to him. The only problem is-

“Oh. Shiki’s left his room for once!”

Shiki tries not to roll his eyes at the sound of the third person’s voice.

Okui Tsubasa. The most annoying person living in the apartment. He’s brilliant, and frankly, the main reason why Shiki’s piece shot to fame. But it doesn’t disregard the fact that he puts on a hundred airs a day, and flirts relentlessly with anyone who just so crosses his path. Not to mention that he fights with Shiki on a daily basis. The first time they met, Tsubasa apparently “hated” Shiki because Shiki didn’t care much for Tsubasa’s “good looks”. But then, Tsubasa had played his oboe, and the rest is history.

“Now, now, Tsubasa,” Rikka says patiently, serving a cup of tea to Shiki. “I’m sure Shiki’s working hard on his new song. What’s it about, anyway? I’m sure everyone’s excited to hear your new piece.”

“It’s supposed to be a duet,” Shiki replies. “A series of pieces. They’re almost alike Romances, but not exactly.”

“I can’t believe Takamura Shiki even _knows_ the word Romance,” Tsubasa sneers. This time, Shiki allows himself to roll his eyes, and Rikka simply laughs.

In spite of the everyday annoyance, Shiki is content with the arrangement. Tsubasa may be rude, but he has a fantastic ability to read the atmosphere, and so he never gets in the way of Shiki’s composing. Their fights never span beyond anything other than petty bickering and work-related arguments. Rikka, on the other hand, is the perfect housemate, and despite him being rather closed off about his personal life, he’s extremely kind and is always checking up on the others. Shiki is very, _very_ happy to have him staying in the same apartment.

They keep up a routine. Shiki doesn’t want any advantages to their living arrangement, so he refuses to listen to them play outside work hours. Tsubasa is still in university, and Rikka still does solo work, so they all have their own lives outside of the apartment. It’s a good arrangement, Shiki thinks.

**

When Shiki finishes his first piece, he’s unsatisfied.

On paper, everything seems perfect. When he puts his music to the bow, it doesn’t sound right.

Somehow, he can’t seem to capture that sense of freedom he’s been trying to capture.

Shiki’s arranged the music again a hundred times, for multiple instruments, but he just can’t get it right.

Perhaps it needs to be played by someone else.

The first person Shiki tests the song out on is obviously Tsubasa – his shining talent, his lead oboe. Shiki’s orchestra has been able to create a name for itself with the unmistakable tone of Tsubasa’s oboe, critics liking his sound to a bird taking flight. If there’s anyone with enough talent to bring the song to fit Shiki’s ideas, perhaps it would be Tsubasa.

“Have you been to London before?” Shiki asks.

“Well of course I have,” Tsubasa answers haughtily. Shiki hands up the music sheet in front of his face before he can continue boasting.

“Then if I say I wrote this thinking about Oxford Street, would you know how to play this?”

Tsubasa stares at him like he’s grown a second head.

Despite his confusion, eventually Tsubasa agrees. He plays the notes on his oboe, and Shiki accompanies him. As usual, he plays with an inane sense of freedom; a canary taking flight into the sky above. A rare talent, and a musician Shiki is proud of to have in his ensemble. And yet-

It’s not a perfect fit.

Shiki goes round after round with him, changing bits here and there, and Tsubasa complies despite his complaints. But no matter how many alterations Shiki makes, Tsubasa can’t seem to match the song. Despite his genius, despite his brilliant playing, he can’t seem to capture the sense of recklessness he wants – the sense of freedom he’s aiming for.

Tsubasa plays like a bird flying across the skies. And yet, beneath the wings of his oboe, he plays like a bird looking for a place to land and call home. It is the opposite of what Shiki wants.

“Do you even _know_ what you want to portray?!” Tsubasa pants angrily, out of breath from the last round as Shiki voices his discontent. “As far as I know, I can’t imagine someone as unromantic as you walking down that road and thinking of anything other than your music!”

Shiki pauses from marking his music sheets to answer Tsubasa’s question.

“When I was there, I could forget all my worries. I could laugh about things outside my expectations, and what was expected of me. For once, I felt free, and I was happy. Do you understand that?”

It’s probably the closest he’s ever gotten to expressing how he felt on that night in words, instead of in music notes. But the explanation seems to have rub Tsubasa the wrong way, as his face grows sour, and he stands up.

“No, I don’t,” he says shortly. “And I never will.”

Shiki raises his eyebrows, but doesn’t stop him from exiting the room. He’s seen that look in Tsubasa’s eyes before – after he had broken up with his boyfriend, citing career differences. Tsubasa had said the breakup was mutual, and they were still friends, so it was fine. But his eyes had told Shiki otherwise.

It's no wonder Tsubasa couldn’t capture the mood of the song.

**

Shiki goes to a café to meet with Izumi Shuu, whom he mentored while they were studying music together. Shuu had grown wonderfully in the music world, earning a name for himself as a renowned cellist. But whenever Shiki came to visit, Shuu would always end up talking about some people he had met while paying a visit to a music school.

“This is Eichi, and these are Ichiru and Issei,” Shuu gushes, showing him a picture on his handphone. It’s a photo of a tall man and a pair of twins, the three of them happily eating ice cream. Shiki has never seen Shuu so enthralled with other people before; he would always keep a polite distance from everyone. It’s almost relieving, to see him so happy.

Once they finish their conversations, Shiki shows Shuu his work in progress. He knows that Shuu dabbles in music writing sometimes, and even though their choices differ, Shiki trusts Shuu’s taste in music.

“It’s about- well, a memory,” Shiki explains, as the waiter brings them their orders – coffee for Shiki, and tea for Shuu. “And I want to transform that memory into a song. Or a series of songs.”

“Your idea sounds pretty vague,” Shuu says, accepting the tea gratefully. “Do you have any other ideas that could make the work more concrete? Like, a location, or even a person.”

“I have a location in mind,” Shiki answers. “Of course, the music is based of a memory of a place. But I don’t think I could ever write a song about another person.”

“Well, it’s pretty common.” Shuu shrugs. “After all, many of the most famous works of music are written about someone else.”

“I’m not Beethoven,” Shiki scoffs. “And regardless, I don’t intend to write about my feelings about other people.”

Shuu peers at his music notes, and then chuckles.

“It seems to me that you already have,” he says, sounding amused. Shiki takes a sip of coffee, and looks down at the notes, but he doesn’t see any traces of anyone in between the sheets.

**

After asking opinion after opinion, Shiki still can’t seem to perfect the song. He had even went out on a limb and had asked his mentor for help, but after a few questions, Tsukino Mikoto simply laughed at him.

“Your ideal piece is already in your head,” he had said. “Of course other people can’t recreate it for you. You’re the only one who knows how to bring that piece to reality. You’ll just have to find out how to do that.”

 _If only Tsukino Mikoto didn’t speak in riddles_ , Shiki thinks glumly.

“What’s wrong, Shiki?” Rikka asks, as Shiki broods over his cup of coffee. Tsubasa has gone back to his family for the weekend. Apparently something had happened to a family friend. “You’ve been sighing at your coffee for a while now.”

“I can’t seem to get my pieces right,” Shiki grumbles. “Somehow, there’s always something off about it.”

“Well, I don’t have much experience in composing music,” Rikka says. “But some rest and a good night’s sleep never hurt anyone. You’re always working too hard, Shiki.”

“Yes, yes,” Shiki responds, with a smile. Rikka never meddles in other people’s affairs – he always keeps everyone at a safe distance, the way that Shiki and Shuu do. But he shows his concern in other ways – a cup of tea, a kind word. Shiki is grateful for that.

**

Shuu invites Shiki for a recital.

“I’ve written some songs, and I want to know your opinion,” he had said.

Of course, Shiki goes. To be invited by one of the darlings of the current music scene was a rare chance – and of course, Shiki wants to see how Shuu’s individual style has developed, since they played together many years ago.

To his surprise, there are only three other people in the room – or perhaps, he shouldn’t be surprised. From their appearances, he can tell who they are – a pair of twins, a tall man with fluffy brown hair, of course – they’re the people Shuu talk endlessly about every day. They chat happily amongst themselves, and when Shiki enters, the tall man offers him a cup of tea. How different to the cold formalities of music critiques. But it seems right, for Shuu to release his music to them first, and not to anyone else.

When Shuu enters the room, the three other guests clap in excitement. Shiki feels as if he’s watching a scene of a family instead of a recital. Perhaps, that’s what the recital is. The thought makes him happy, that Shuu has extended his hand and allowed him to partake in this family event, even if it’s just for his musical opinion.

Shuu smiles at all of them, as he takes his seat, adjusts his bow. And then, he _plays._

And Shiki realises – what it means, a song written about someone else.

Eichi, Ichiru and Issei listen with stars in their eyes, delighted to hear Shuu’s first song. They don’t seem to know it’s about them. But Shiki knows – the way he expresses it in his notes, in his playing – even the music sheet he’s read. It’s all about _love_.

His thoughts drift back to the papers lying on his desk. He had written about a memory – no, a memory about _someone_.

The atmosphere, the emotions he wished to capture. The reason he was able to write it down was because –

There was a person who walked alongside him, a person who had looked up into the night sky and laughed at the lights of the city, and from there, he was able to relive that memory.

As Shuu finishes his piece, he’s met with the claps and cheers of three people, smiling and exclaiming how wonderful he is. Shiki watches his expression, his relief, his happiness.

His _love_.

Shiki’s fingers twitch, longing for the piano once more.

**

_(The memory begins, and ends, like a dream that will never come true._

_They take the tube back to their respective hotels, and say goodbye. They separate, and live their lives._

_But in a strange twist of fate, Sera Rikka meets Takamura Shiki once more, and joins his orchestra._

_And somewhere along the line, they even begin to live together._

_Sera Rikka has always admired the child prodigy, the famous violinist, the critically acclaimed composer Takamura Shiki. At the same time, Sera Rikka has always known and understood Takamura Shiki._

_Even so, he doesn’t hope for anything more than this. Shiki will never turn his face away from music. He doesn’t want Shiki to._

_With that, he treasures every day they are together. Where Shiki buries himself in music sheets and he has to fish him out. When Shiki and Tsubasa fight over the dinner table. When Shiki goes from music-writing wreck to a brilliant maestro, conducting everyone together in harmony on the stage._

_He wishes he can stay like this forever. But he knows it’s a dream that will never come true._

_And so he treasures every day that Takamura Shiki turns, and faces Sera Rikka.)_

**

Shiki asks Rikka to accompany him on the weekend, as Tsubasa has a friend over at their apartment. Apparently, he’s helping his friend look for a new job. Shiki and Rikka head to a music studio, where Shiki’s booked a room.

“I’d like you to help me out with this song,” he explains, passing the sheets to Rikka, who studies it carefully. He’s spent the night arranging it into a version which fits the flute’s range. “I think your flute will suit it.”

Rikka nods, and pauses, seemingly waiting for Shiki to play the song first. Shiki shakes his head.

“I want you to play it,” he says. “I want your interpretation before anything else.”

“This is your work,” Rikka says, sounding uncertain. “I don't know what you want me to portray. What if I mess it up?”

“It’s a work in progress,” Shiki replies. “You may inspire me to change what I’ve written, and how to express the song in different ways.”

He looks straight up at Rikka, and smiles.

“I trust you.”

Rikka seems taken aback at first, but then chuckles.

“I can’t win against you, Shiki,” he says, and wets his lips.

Shiki plays the opening notes, and with a nod of his head, Rikka joins in.

It’s a slow tempo – Rikka taking his time with the notes, so as to not make too many mistakes; Shiki keeping to Rikka’s careful pace. But how fast or how slow, it doesn’t matter. As Rikka makes his way through the notes, the piece takes on a certain quality of its own – one that Shiki hadn’t marked down.

He understands now.

Of course, of course. The streets that lit up at night. The feeling of emptiness a city could give. The feeling of recklessness and wild youth, which never translated into anything but sparkling eyes and footsteps in the dark. Of course, no one could capture those feelings but Rikka.

Because Rikka was by his side, all those times.

Of course, they were all memories of Rikka.

When the song ends, Rikka looks at Shiki, and gives him an unsure smile.

“How was that?” he asks.

‘It was good,” Shiki replies. “I think I know what I want now.”

He doesn’t take his eyes of Rikka.

“It’s a wonderful song,” Rikka says, almost dreamily. “I could feel your love for music in those notes, Shiki. It must be a song most dear to you.”

Shiki doesn’t know if what he does next can be considered bravery. Perhaps foolishness. Or impulse. Or perhaps, years and years of the truth that resided within him, waiting to be uttered upon knowing. But he knows, now is the right time to speak, to confess.

And so, he does.

“It is about a memory precious to me,” he tells Rikka. “When we were in London, and walked down Oxford Street together.”

Rikka’s eyes widen in surprise.

“We were trying to be young again, because we grew up too fast. And I think – I was captured by the you who lived in that moment, without the pressures of adulthood upon you.”

He stands up from the piano, moves towards Rikka. Rikka doesn’t back away. But Shiki notices it – the tears reflecting in his eyes.

If Rikka rejects him here and now, Shiki will live with it without complaint. But he wants Rikka to know – there is music, which he loves, that he wants to be a part of forever, and then – there is also Rikka, providing him with a break, a cup of tea, a caring word.

Shiki is selfish and greedy, and wants both, if he can.

“You know as well as I do that we can’t live in that carefree way forever,” Rikka finally speaks, his voice shaking. “That moment only lasted once – for most of my life, I’m the person you see every day.”

Ah – so Rikka is afraid. He’s afraid that Shiki is only in love with the Rikka that smiled and forgot about his worries.

But he isn’t saying no. Shiki has hope.

He takes Rikka’s hands – they’re cold, from the flute or from Rikka’s emotions, he doesn’t know. He’s afraid too – his heart is pounding so loudly, he wonders whether Rikka can hear it. But it doesn’t matter. He’ll say it regardless.

“If I told you that I am captured by that same you, as I am with the you that I saw in London, what would you say?”

Tears fall from Rikka’s eyes, but he smiles, albeit a bit weakly. Shiki lifts his lips up in return.

It’s obvious, the both of them aren’t used to this. But perhaps, it’s not a bad feeling, this dive into unfamiliar waters.

“I don’t want to hold you back, Shiki,” Rikka says. “I know, you love music more than anything. One day you’ll be back on the international stage, and I’ll be left behind.”

“If I go on the international stage, I’ll take you with me,” Shiki responds. He releases Rikka’s hands, and opens up a palm, the same way Rikka had done teasingly all those years ago.

“Won’t you come with me?”

Rikka laughs, despite the tears streaming down his face, and nods.

Shiki thinks, he can write a song about this moment – taking Rikka’s hands, closing around his flute, leaning forward, and taking a kiss from him. He could write a song about Rikka’s lips against his, the way he puts his flute carefully away, to embrace Shiki properly. Arms around his neck, his hands clasped on the small of Rikka’s back, the time that ticks past in the music room. He could write song after song about this moment.

But some moments deserve to be stowed away – to be kept secret between the two of them, and not to be written down onto music sheets.

And so Shiki turns his face away from music.

Just this once.

**Author's Note:**

> more about this universe:-
> 
> i know my fic over-glorifies london a little bit sdjkfnskn but honestly i wanted to capture that specific experience in those songs by british singers about getting wasted and running through the street. is it like a british cultural experience or something. i miss it sometimes.
> 
> eichi is a teacher in music school, issei and ichiru are students. shuu was invited to the music school for an event, met the three of them, and kazokuberu was born.
> 
> tsubasa (and also dai's) whole situation is actually supposed to be another fic but i haven't got the chance to complete it yet dsdkjnfskjn. maybe someday.....
> 
> (where's dai, anyway? he's there! you just need to squint.)


End file.
